A Trip To Remember
by SadiraSnape
Summary: Hermione Granger accompanies Severus Snape, a first year student, and a magical cat to the Middle East and Romania. Can these two finally realize how much alike they are? And why a first year and a magical cat? Read on...
1. Chapter 1

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 1 – Snape's Preparations

15 June

Finally have all the appropriate equipment for the journey to Egypt and Romania. Young Whetstone and his infernal maneki neko have been sorted and properly outfitted. Ms Granger has agreed to accompany us – I am interested to see how she does in the field as well as with a child and a creature at her heels. If nothing else, it will be entertaining. I'm especially looking forward to the effect the heat and humidity of the Nile valley should have on that hair of hers – I believe I'll place a small wager with Filius as to how far from her head it will extend. I think 3 feet is a reasonable figure.

Remember to pack a camera for photographic evidence.

My old friend Ogdoad Valentinas has assured me he has made all arrangements and will assist in keeping the younger set occupied while I attend to certain areas of research and collection that do not require the input of children, felines or know-it-alls. It seems he has a nephew who will most likely provide some distraction for Ms Granger.

Good.

* * *

><p>20 June<p>

Why in the world did I break out the elf-made Armagnac last night? I'm not sure, but I may have told tales out of school regarding the "hidden lives" of the staff. Blast it. Pomona will have my guts for garters if she ever finds out.

I have to admit, though, it was decidedly… pleasant… to spend an evening getting comfortably loose, and in such interesting company. Who would have thought that annoying little witch could mature into such a keen mind and brilliant conversationalist. It was quite enjoyable to put my feet up and stop being the Great Bat o' the Dungeon for a bit.

Mustn't do it too often, though. And certainly not in Egypt! Although a bit of wizard arak would be delightful…

Note to self: be sure to pack extra protective gear for Blue Lotus collection. We can't have a repeat of the situation involving the _Kekrops quetzalcoatalis_ expedition… and Florence Bench. Ugh.

25 June

Ms Granger is getting along famously with young Whetstone and his beast. Oddly enough, I am not finding her presence a burden, or even much of an annoyance. Rather than talking my ear off all day long, she spends her time actually studying Siggy and Morpheus, asking them pertinent questions, and recording her observations. Fascinating. And she takes quite comprehensible and cogent notes as well.

I reluctantly find myself wishing she would not have to return to London and the Ministry at the end of the summer.

How odd.

* * *

><p>1 July<p>

The date of departure draws near. Everything is in order, fake Muggle travel visas have been arranged, the political climate has been sampled and found to be as badly in disarray as it's ever been. I find myself obsessively counting and recounting the packages, vials, bottles, baskets, and other accoutrements of a field trip for gathering potion ingredients and research. I've also cut back on the treacle tart – I find since the war that I have a somewhat alarming tendency to indulge myself in things that "ensnare the senses", to coin a phrase… I've taken to enjoying desserts entirely too much, savouring the aroma of the more pleasant dried ingredients, even noticing the colors of my surroundings more than I ever did.

At any rate, don't want to be completely miserable in the heat of the Middle East, and the extra stone I've put on will certainly do it. No more desserts and a brisk nightly walk around the lake are in order for one S. Snape, I do believe. Blast.

I have also discovered that Ms Granger is quite a lovely and captivating young witch. Much too young for any serious thought or pursuit, of course, but I suppose even an old warhorse like myself can appreciate the aesthetic treat she provides in these dark and damp old dungeons…

Hm. I must go count the baskets again. And did I remember to pack my camera? Besides documenting the effect of Egypt's heat and humidity on Ms Granger's hair (Filius took my wager at 5 to 1 her hair would bush out at least 3 feet from her head, put down 10 galleons and muttered something about she having been the first to learn some charm or other), I am surprised to discover a desire to document the trip itself, and my companions.

Again, how odd.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 2 – Leaving and Arriving

Dear Ginny

I'm off to Egypt tomorrow! Everything's packed and ready. I've made a new travelling bag, extendible of course. The lining went on the old bead bag and I spent weeks thinking I'd never see my gobstones again, but they eventually rolled out when I retrieved the unbreakable tea-set. I'm not sure I'll need the tea-set, but it's best to be prepared, just in case.

So exciting! I've spent the last few weekends at Hogwarts getting to know young Siggy Whetstone. On first impressions he's a quiet and rather odd child, but once you get him talking on one of his favourite subjects he's off, chattering nineteen to the dozen.

Severus has given me a little background on Siggy. It appears he had a rough childhood, and had been exploited by his magical family. For instance, when told we would be visiting some tombs, Siggy's smile evaporated suddenly. When I enquired what the matter was he asked quietly not to be sent into the tombs alone, which his Uncle made him do last time. He's very bright. He's a quick learner and observant too. Like many children of that age he's full of questions!

I get the impression Severus wasn't initially too keen on having to take Siggy with him, and I feared I'd end up babysitting him the whole trip. But the itinerary has been planned to include my wishes to get some Blue Lotus Flowers and I've been assured there will be many things of interest for Siggy and I along the way.

I'm sooooo looking forward to getting away after all that stuffy work at the Ministry. Looking back I can see how stifling it was and I'm glad to be gone. Severus says I was wasted there, and I'm tending to agree.  
>About our expedition leader…at first it was strange speaking to our old Professor on equal terms. As students we didn't really see the staff as people outside of their role as Professor, but I couldn't go back to that way of thinking now I know that "X" used to like gambling on illegal dragon races, "Y" once got into trouble for… actually I promised not to tell that, but you'd never see Prof Sprout in the same way again. Oops. You never read that. And the Miserable Old Bat can be surprisingly funny when not surrounded by students.<p>

I'm going to miss you, Harry and Ron, but it's only for a few weeks. Oh how am I going to sleep? I'm too excited for words!

Ginny, it will be impractical to use owls to communicate, so use the little casket with this letter to write to me. It works a bit like a mini-vanishing cabinet; once you put the letter in and shut the box it will appear in the identical box I'm taking with me. Don't try to send anything living in it though. It's only charmed for inanimate objects.

Love Hermione

* * *

><p>15 July<p>

We have arrived at Ogdoad's lovely home, and his hospitality as ever has been flawless. Ms Granger – I mean "Hermione" (she has insisted I address her by her first name) – has apparently settled in quite well, and has somehow managed to keep her gushing about the house, the city, the country, the sky, and every other blessed thing she sees to a minimum. Her eyes will sparkle and her mouth begins to open, then her gaze slips over to me and you can almost hear the "snap!" as she closes it. Am I truly that frightening? Useful as it is for the students, I do wish she could set aside the professor/teacher dynamic at this late and festive date. It might be pleasant to hear a bit of a gush now and again – I have discovered it allows me to see these things from a new and fresh perspective, almost as if I'm seeing them for the first time myself.

I find I would like to see these wonderful things through her eyes more and more. Disturbing.

Young Siggy and his dratted cat have also settled in well. Of course, the first thing that happens is the cat goes missing. Hermione (that is difficult to write, much less say, but she is _quite_ insistent) is rather upset, and I must confess to some trepidation myself, but Siggy is completely calm and has reassured us both that "he'll come back. He just had some visiting to do." I believe I need to keep a sharper eye on those two. They are most definitely up to something, and I do not care for surprises, especially from rising Second Years and their four-legged partners in crime…

* * *

><p>Dear Ginny<p>

Greetings from Cairo, or a little place just outside of. We were invited to stay with Mr Valentinas for a few days. He lives in a lovely old House, with huge gardens and some amazing permanent cooling charms I've never heard of before. I'd worried we would be staying in a tent for much of the trip, and you know, I've had more than enough of camping for a lifetime. Anyway, it's very comfortable, marble floors, carved panelling and bathrooms exceeding those of the Prefects' at School for luxury.

Yesterday Mr Valentinas took us all at the crack of dawn to a place where I was able to gather some excellent specimens of the rare Blue Lotus Flower. It's used in some of the most difficult and expensive potions and I hope to use it in a project I'm planning when we get back. You have to be really careful when harvesting because of powerful side-effects of the plant, (said to be intoxication and enhanced virility). The MOB was very nervous and insisted I wear a stupid amount of protective clothing which I sweltered horribly in. Listening to his constant stream of instructions put me off so in the end I just blocked him out with a muffling charm and got on with it.

When I stripped off the overalls my clothes were stuck to me with sweat and the MOB refused to cast a cooling charm because Muggles might notice. I swear he liked to see me suffer; I caught him smirking in my direction when he thought I wasn't looking.

Mr Valentinas has a secure storage area which we will send all our gathered ingredients to while we are in Egypt. And did I mention the library? We sit there in the cool of the evening writing up our notes or diving into the wonderful volumes. Siggy can hardly contain himself. He's interested in everything. And the MOB never looks happier than when lounging in a wicker chair with the latest journal.

Tomorrow Siggy and the MOB are going to gather leeches in the riverbank mud. Apparently these are "the best of the best". I foolishly asked what made these little suckers so special and received a lecture on anti-coagulants, maximum leech capacity and all kind of other revolting facts. Ugh!

However, I have the morning off and am being chaperoned by Mr V's nephew around what is said to be the best Magical Museum in Egypt! Siggy and Severus will join us in the afternoon. Sounds perfect.

After a few days I'm getting used to the heat. Siggy seems unaffected. He bounces with enthusiasm from dawn to dusk.

But I wish I had a camera, Ginny. In town the MOB wears lightweight black clothing but when we go out to gather stuff he wears a similar looking outfit in olive colour. It's not as flattering as the black robes we are used to. Needs to cut back on the puddings I think.

I have to make an early start tomorrow, so I'll end now.

Having a great time.

Love

Hermione

* * *

><p>16 July<p>

Went this morning to collect _Nymphaea caerulea_ from a location Ogdoad has been scouting for some time. Hermione attempted to balk at the protective clothing, but I insisted (actually I had to get a bit Professorial with her), and, as I instructed her step by step, managed to collect sufficient for Hermione's needs as well as certain uses I may have of a side nature. Foolish chit, I regret getting so evil with her, but damn if she wasn't going to just reach into the water and snatch the plants out bare-handed! I actually had to grab her by the arms, make her look at me, and tell her in no uncertain terms what would happen if she touched these particular specimens without protection – I was pleased to see the blood drain from her face as the implications sank into her overstuffed brain. This particular strain of Blue Lotus has a heightened aphrodisiacal effect, and needs only the least touch of bare skin to affect the unwary, not to mention anyone who is past adolescence within a 10 foot radius.

It was the prime ingredient for the food provided at the orgiastic rituals of Hathor at her temple in Dendera. It was _extremely_ effective.

But I must admit (to myself if to no one else, which is why I keep this journal) that part of me would have been quite interested to see the legendary effects of the Blue Lotus on such a captivating creature as Hermione Jean Granger. A question I have no answer for is: would I have responded as well? Hm. But that doesn't bear thinking of – we are entirely too far apart in age and experience.

Away with such thoughts.

Once the plants were collected, she stomped – or rather, sloshed – her way to the bank quite comically, and after struggling out (_N. caerulea_ grows in quite boggy conditions) she immediately removed the protective clothing. In a bit of a snit, I imagine – one thing hasn't changed about our Ms Granger, she does _not_ like to be shown she does not always know everything. It was quite… enjoyably fascinating… to observe the effects of a hot, close-woven coverall on the thin cotton tunic she was wearing underneath…! Well. I must confess forbidding her to cast a cooling charm, citing possible Muggle observation. That was pure prevarication – there were no Muggles within 40 miles. I just liked the change she brought to the scenery! Ogdoad (that old scoundrel) knew exactly what was up, so I must be very very careful around him. Whetstone was oblivious – he was having fun tossing bits of pita left over from lunch to the ducks.

I might be old, but I'm not blind. I do enjoy a bit of eye candy, if I do say so myself. And Hermione does indeed provide some _excellent_ eye candy. I suppose I can look, as long as I remember that I must never touch. Besides, what would she want with an old bat like myself?

Tonight will be filled with updating notebooks, making sure the plants are safe and flourishing, and hopefully I will get to spend a quiet hour or several in the cool of Ogdoad library. Then to bed. I don't believe I'll be needing any Sleeping Draught tonight. Exercise of the body and the mind will make for a quick descent into sleep's arms.


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 3 – Museums and Leeches

Hi Ginny

The trip to the Museum was amazing. I wandered around in the morning in the company of a smart and very handsome young wizard Mr Valentinas' nephew Omar. He didn't say a great deal but pointed out things of interest that I might have missed on my own. I saw beautiful objects made centuries ago, and learned why and by whom. I admired many things, but the only thing I'd have liked to bring home was a little statue of Bast made from black stone.

I had lunch with Omar as Siggy and Severus had been delayed at the riverbank. Apparently Siggy had wandered off and Severus ended up muddier than anticipated when retrieving him from deep waters. According to the lecture I endured last night it's considered best practice to catch the leeches before they catch you, but…... So they arrived -in fresh clothing and foul temper.

But once we began our afternoon tour they were as absorbed as I was by the treasures. We moved into a room re-creating, in an educational way, the inside of a tomb. A group of Egyptian schoolchildren had just left, chattering about their lesson. Some of the curses they put on the tombs! Gruesome. They even categorised the curses into slow-acting or fast-acting, physically maiming or mentally disturbing, merely harmful or deadly.

It was dispiriting in a way, Ginny. Of all the horrific things we saw during the war, there was little that was new or hadn't previously been thought acceptable for use on enemies or to gain an advantage. Siggy paid attention in all seriousness, but Severus was unreadable, the way you know when someone's hiding their reactions deliberately, to not give anything away.

This evening the MOB was being unsociable, so I talked quietly with Siggy about his plans for the next few days, looking through reports and maps to help him find the place he wanted. Apparently he has been there previously with his Uncle, but without success. He's worried, I think, about failing. After the talking-to he had over his escapade this morning he doesn't want to get it wrong again.

I tried to distract him with tales from my morning with Omar. It gave Siggy the opportunity to tease me about the handsome young wizard and lightened both our moods. But not the MOB, who glared repressively over his newspaper. So it's feeling a bit subdued and reflective after a surprisingly tiring day that I sign off this letter.

Tomorrow we travel to Siggy's village, so an early night is in order.

Best wishes

Hermione.

* * *

><p>17 July<p>

Today I took young Siggy with me to collect Nile leeches (_Limnatis nilotica_), and Hermione took a day off to visit the Royal Magical Museum with Ogdoad's young nephew, Omar. For some reason, Ogdoad assured me that Omar is betrothed to a daughter of a fine old wizarding family and that, quote, "He'll be no problem for you, my friend. None at all!" And then the sly old bastard winked at me! _Winked!_ If I hadn't known him for 30 years, I'd have hexed his ears into roof shingles…

We borrowed a couple of mules from Ogdoad, since the leech pond was quite a way and we couldn't apparate, as it's a populated area. I explained the difference between the horse leech (_Haemopis sanguisuga_) and the Nile leech to Siggy, as we both were going to be collecting. He was quite excited about getting to splash around in the pond, and didn't seem squeamish about picking up the leeches, even with forceps.

That was unexpected, yet appreciated. I do so dislike squealing children with misplaced senses of delicacy. It's just a _leech_, after all, not an aboleth or a hagfish…

We arrived at the pond, put on our protective waders, and began collecting. I had just filled one jar and started on a second when there was a splash, a gurgle, and then a plaintive, "Sir?" I turned, and to no one's surprise, discovered that Siggy had managed not only to fall into the pond, but to lose his waders as well. I cannot fathom how that child can cause so much disruption with so little raw material to work with.

I put my second jar in my pocket (closing it carefully), waded over to where he was stuck (the mud in the leech pond is quite viscous), looked at him for a moment, then took him by the collar and lifted. He came loose with a most disagreeable sound, and hung there, dripping rather noisomely and looking quite embarrassed. I shook my head and deposited him on the bank.

"I'm sorry, Sir," he squeaked. "Hm. Not as sorry as you're going to be, once you realize that the Nile leech is quite the opportunistic predator. Look at your legs." He looked down, and swallowed visibly – his skinny little legs were well populated with some prime examples of _L. nilotica_. He looked up at me, and I nodded. "Yes, young man, you'll have to pull them off. Gently, I don't want them damaged. Here's a jar."

I handed him a jar and he began de-leeching himself. I know from experience that it isn't pleasant to remove Nile leeches; they seem to be extremely … tenacious … and don't like to give up without a bit of fight.

I went back to collecting my own leeches in the prescribed manner, quietly watching Siggy while he worked. His chin trembled a bit, but I was pleased at his bravery in removing the leeches with care. I had looked down to collect a particularly elusive specimen, and almost had it, when suddenly a shriek of "_**PROFESSOR!**_" rent the air.

Startled, I looked up and almost dropped my jar. Siggy had stood up to check that he'd gotten all the leeches, and in the process his cotton shorts had sagged a bit, whereupon he discovered he had a lively crop of visitors in places no male would ever choose to entertain leeches. The poor child (did I just say that? I must be going soft in my old age) was standing stock still, white as a sheet, and shaking from head to toe.

I rushed to the bank, set down my jar (to hell with the lid), and hurried to him. "Calm down, Whetstone, they're still just leeches," I said. I took out my wand and with a quiet _Evanesco _the offending leeches disappeared. I then used a hemostasis spell of my own devising to stop the bleeding from the various leech wounds.

"There now," I said. "And we're done with leech collecting – your legs have provided quite enough." Siggy nodded with some relief and began collecting his jars and forceps. Again, I was impressed with his stoicism in the face of what I personally know is a rather shattering experience. As we were loading up the mules, he stood for a moment with his face pressed into the mule's neck. I watched him for a bit, then rode up behind him, reached down, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You did well, Whetstone. Better than most would." I couldn't believe I was saying this. Severus Snape, Potions Master, Mean Old Bat o' the Dungeons, offering encouragement and comfort to a rising Second Year? I can't say what possessed me, except perhaps a realization that such an incident with his unlamented uncle would have resulted in severe punishment.

He looked up at me, obviously startled, then relaxed and unleashed his infuriatingly sunny grin on me. I rolled my eyes, and turned away. "Oh, mount up, Whetstone. We have a long ride, then we must clean up to meet Ms Granger for lunch," I sighed.

Bathed and freshly dressed, we met Hermione at the Museum. She and Omar seemed to be getting along famously, which unaccountably plunged me into a dark mood. For some reason, Ogdoad's comment regarding Omar's betrothal brought me a measure of comfort. Why in the world would I care one way or the other about the marital plans of a perfect stranger? I was just tired from the leech adventure, I suppose, and random thoughts were drifting around.

At any rate, I managed to conceal my mental wanderings, and paid appropriate attention to the various exhibits, all of which I've seen before. Ah, but I hadn't seen them through Hermione's eyes, which made them all seem exciting and fresh again. How peculiar. I've chaperoned many a field trip for 7th years to various sites of interest, but it's always been an insufferable chore – why would accompanying a witch in her mid-20's and a child of 12 to yet another Magical Museum spark my interest and attention as if I had never been? Curious.

Siggy paid particular attention to the Hall of Pharaohs, where miniatures harmlessly demonstrated the various curses Egyptian royalty liked to set on their tombs. One could almost see the information sinking into his sponge of a brain. Fortunately, the demonstrations did not include the actual spells – simply one miniature gesturing towards another miniature, which then displayed the effects of the curse. I watched him closely – contrary to what I expected, he evidenced no revulsion, but pure fascination. Proof he belongs in Slytherin.

Hermione, on the other hand, was quite distressed, especially by the _negi_ curse, which in my opinion is the curse upon which Urquhart Rackharrow based his entrail-expelling curse. There's nothing new in the world, just newly re-discovered. And re-attributed, if truth be told…

Finally we trooped back to Ogdoad's for a light supper and a bit of relaxation. I retired to a comfortable armchair and caught up on a bit of reading, while Hermione and Siggy laid plans for our search for the Arabian phoenix in which he is interested. At one point Siggy began teasing Hermione about Omar, and before I could stop myself I snapped my paper down and fixed them both with the patented Snape Glare. Siggy sobered up immediately, and curiously Hermione flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. Again Ogdoad's comment from this morning crossed my mind, calming me, so I snapped my paper back up, and the pair went back to quieter discussions.

While I was considering why the mention of Omar caused such a reaction and why Ogdoad's comment is so calming, Morpheus chose that moment to attack the photograph on the front of my paper, which featured a small owl flying from one person to another (some stupid story about training owls to apparate – how absurd…)

I stood up, dumping the cat on the floor, and announced that we had an early morning tomorrow and bed would be the appropriate place for all of us to be. Immediately. And then stalked from the room. I heard the pair creep past my door not long ago, so I suppose I should follow my own dictum and retire.


	4. Chapter 4

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 4 – On the road to Farafra

Dear Ginny,

two letters at once - To the tombs.

To avoid raising suspicion we had to travel to a place three hours from our destination in order to take the local transport, a rattling old bus whose suspension must have died on one of those dusty roads decades ago. It was hot, smelly, uncomfortable and noisy. By the time we arrived at the village I had deep regrets about leaving Mr Valentinas' marble bathrooms behind.

Siggy was expecting us to be met by one of the villagers he'd become acquainted with last time he visited. We sat on our bags at the dusty roadside watching the sun go down as we waited.  
>Unfortunately the expected host had to deal with a family emergency and it was a neighbour who came to collect us with profuse apologies for the lateness. Siggy made his greetings in the local dialect and appeared to be able to understand enough to hold a basic conversation, putting my stumbling efforts to shame. We were warmly greeted at a modest home and crammed into a small but clean room, hastily prepared.<p>

In order to preserve anonymity we had to behave Muggle, so any cleansing charms, cooling charms, etc… had to be kept to a minimum and only performed when certain of not being observed.

We were all to stay in one room, furnished with the basics. After a satisfying meal we retired to discuss the next day's activities.

Siggy had heard of a supposedly haunted tomb in a place about a mile outside the village. His late Uncle believed it contained something of value and had tried to break into it unsuccessfully. Siggy thinks he knows how to do so, but wants to try on his own. I thought this rather brave of him, given his previous experiences. I wasn't sure if he was trying to prove himself, to overcome his fears, or not telling us the whole story. After agreeing to an early start we settled down to sleep.

Sometime around three am I was woken by a disturbance. It took me a few moments to gather my wits. Siggy was sitting up wide awake and badly upset. I spent a while calming him and making reassurances. He settled down but it wasn't until morning, when Severus was off buying supplies that I managed to get him to tell me what was wrong.

Siggy, as a natural Legilimens, is susceptible to an awareness of the thoughts of others. He usually spends a little time clearing his mind before sleeping as a precaution but being overtired he'd forgotten to do this, and while asleep had unconsciously drifted across his Professor's dreaming mind. He wouldn't say any more than it was "upsetting". Remembering some of the testimony we heard at the Trials after the war, the things Severus must have seen, experienced… it's no wonder. The physical scars are obvious but the mental scars, the painful memories are unseen but as deeply affecting. I should remember that when complaining about the MOB. After a smooth start my trip has begun to get uncomfortable in more ways than expected.

* * *

><p>18 July<p>

A long, long day, so this entry will be split into two. We're taking a well-deserved day off tomorrow, so I will finish this entry at that time. It will also give me time to reflect upon the decidedly odd occurrences, observations and revelations of this day…

Part 1 – the journey

Siggy had identified the village of Farafra as the location of the tomb his beast of an uncle attempted to rob (let us call a spade a spade), and so we traveled there by Muggle bus today, there being no Floo system available and it being too Muggle populated to risk apparation. I find I miss the extra stone I was carrying earlier in the season, as the vehicle's suspension was apparently of the 2 strips of leather and a prayer variety. I was pounded to death by that beastly thing, and will have to make use of my Debruising Lotion tonight or I shall be unable to sit anywhere. Must remember to offer some to Hermione – she seems to be walking a bit tenderly. Perhaps this evening we could all repair to Bir Sitta for a rejuvenating soak in the hot springs – it's only a few kilometers from Farafra itself.

Of course nothing bothers Siggy much – he was having entirely too much fun adding bounces to those provided by our ancient conveyance. Ah youth… it's wasted on the young.

After 3 hours of unrelenting physical torture we finally arrived at Farafra. We were supposed to be met by a _fellah_ of Siggy's acquaintance from his previous expedition, but this worthy failed to show up. We were instead met by a neighbour after a wait of some time, citing a family emergency on the _fellah_'s part. His profuse and charming apology served admirably to remove my minor irritation, which had also been appeased by observing the interesting effect sunset over the Sahara al-Beyda had on Hermione's face and hair (which has _not_ bushed to the extent I predicted. Damn. That means I owe Filius 50 galleons upon my return. Hell.) – the scarlet and gold of the sky reflected most pleasingly in highlights in her hair, which is full and lustrous, not wiry and wild as I remember it. Her smooth skin picked up all the colors of the desert and the sky – gold and pale amaranth in the highlights, purple and green in the shadows, cream and tea rose in the midtones. Her eyes sparkled with the crimson fire of the sun as it sank below the dunes of the White Desert. All the flowers of England, sitting in the desert of Egypt.

(It was an _Anti-Frizz Charm_ Filius was talking about! Why that sneaky little… I'll make him the angel atop the Christmas tree this year for this…) (No, the _New Year's Baby…._)

I've always loved Qasr al-Farafra – the Sahara al-Beyda with its outcrops of chalk make a stark contrast to the beauty and timelessness of the town and oasis. You can borrow a horse (one of the fine Arabians bred here – you don't find any horses like Farafran Arabians in England: beautiful, swift, and extremely intelligent) and ride into the desert, then head back to Bir Sitta for a soak under the stars or to the el-Mufid Lake, where the swimming is excellent.

But this isn't a travelogue. Nor am I a poet, although I seem to have waxed lyrical a paragraph or so ago. But let it stand – it's true.

Siggy is quite fluent in the local dialect, and performed brilliantly in discussing accommodations. I listened in to be sure everything was communicated correctly, but did not need to clarify a single time. Hermione attempted polite salutations, but she wasn't very good. I must introduce her to the Language By Owl lessons. She will also become more fluent if she accompanies me on future field expeditions….

At any rate, we soon found ourselves comfortably installed in a single room with the neighbour, which was quite spacious and very clean and neat. Since the neighbour is a Muggle, we are constrained to strictly Muggle behaviour. Fortunately Siggy is used to this, having done much traveling with the beastly uncle, and of course Hermione was raised a Muggle, so she is comfortable with it. We were served an excellent Bedouin feast, and repaired to our room to plan our assault on the tomb.

Siggy feels confident he can handle it, but I have every intention of standing back-up in case something untoward occurs. For all his ability, experience and his gifts, he is still just a boy of 12, and one never knows what could occur in the course of spell-breaking. I've reviewed all I know about the subject (which is quite a bit, if I do say so myself), and feel I can step in if necessary. I don't mean to unless it is absolutely required – Siggy needs all the confidence-building I as his guardian can provide to counter his previous damage. There is a powerful wizard in that youngster, but one that needs to rediscover trust in his own ability, lest he search for that assurance down darker paths.

We ran over some basic techniques for spell-breaking, then retired. Changing into sleepwear was a bit of a challenge, but we managed it with no breaches of modesty on anyone's part. (Sadly.) I am pleased to report that Hermione accepted some Debruising Lotion, but declined my gallant offer to assist in the application. Ah well. At least Siggy found my sally quite hilarious, as he laughed for at least 10 minutes, then spent another 15 occasionally snorting. Hermione went a fetching shade of scarlet, which I found rather amusing. Then she laughed a bit uncertainly, I quirked an eyebrow humourously, and allowed a faint smile to cross my lips.

It is pleasant to engage in some friendly banter instead of always having to be the forbidding Professor Snape. I do hope she can come to see me as Just Severus eventually. Siggy is well on his way to knowing that the two occupy the same body, and appear as the situation requires.

* * *

><p>Same day – long before dawn<p>

I was just awakened by an outburst from Siggy. I lay awake for a few moments, then heard Hermione get up and settle him again. I have waited until I heard them both snoring again (yes, the redoubtable Ms Granger does indeed snore, a small whistle with a tiny moan at the end, but a snore nonetheless) before retrieving my journal and recording this.

I woke up from a dream involving some of the events of the War, but featuring Siggy and Hermione, in danger, and there being nothing I could do to help them. It was highly reminiscent of the night Charity was murdered. Nagini was there, Riddle was there, the Malfoys, myself…. stop, Severus. If you revisit it, you'll just dream it again.

I wonder if Siggy, while asleep, accidentally picked up my dream? That isn't good; when we return to Hogwarts I must work with him on Occlumency while he is asleep. It wouldn't do for him to begin picking up my random thoughts regarding Hermione… even though I keep my thoughts well shielded from him. I must remember to reinforce my own shields at night.

I'm returning to bed – dawn will be here in a few hours, and I must get more sleep. Perhaps my dreams will take a more pleasant turn for the remainder of the night…

One can only hope.


	5. Chapter 5

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 5 – Curse Breaking a Tomb

…and back again.

Well, I can't tell it all in a letter but what an amazing day!

Siggy led the way, crumpled map in hand, to the tombs. There was no clear path, but he stopped several times to look around, getting his bearings and sniffing the wind like a hound. It would have been comical to watch if it wasn't for the serious expression on Siggy's face.

When we arrived he asked us to wait and approached the site carefully. He stopped outside a small stone structure, not much bigger than a garden shed and only five feet high. The ground about was untended, there were no signs of recent habitation or use. I'd imagined Siggy would start trying to get in at once, but he sat down in the dust and stared at the door for ages. Being far from the village there were no sounds of human activity, no traffic, no animals, only the scrape of stones as I shuffled my feet nervously.

After another five minutes of nothing it first crossed my mind that Siggy didn't know what to do next. I opened my mouth to speak, but Severus warned me with a glare and shake of the head not to make a sound. He was watching the scene intently, fingers ready to draw his wand.

As I watched, a wisp of smoke curled from under the portal. A strong scent of myrrh drifted over. Then, at first so low it could hardly be heard, a muffled wailing quickly growing louder. In the absence of other sounds the moaning wail became all I could hear, almost hypnotic in its intensity. Siggy jumped up and pressed his hands to the stone door. He whispered something and listened for a reply. There was none, the noise died down and Siggy stepped back still focussed on the door as the smoke thickened and curled around his feet.

The sound of stone on stone, grating, a crackle of magical energy, followed by the orange flash of a spell, a cloud of smoke and the flickering of fire from inside the tomb. And like a ghost, covered in dust, through the smoke came a small animal. The creature stalked towards Siggy and - jumped up into his arms. It was Morpheus.

While I gaped in astonishment Siggy hugged his pet affectionately, getting covered in dust.

And then, from the tomb another creature emerged through the smoke. A large eagle sized bird, shaking the dust from its red and gold feathers, spreading its wings and crying out a beautiful piercing song. It was a phoenix. As we watched in awe as it paced a few steps and took flight, circling us several times as it rose higher on the air. Then in a bright flash of light it disappeared. As we gazed at the empty sky where it had been, three feathers drifted slowly downwards, one to each of us.

Once I'd cleared my head a bit I walked over to Siggy. He was beaming with happiness.

"Don't go in there yet," he said, meaning the tomb.

"What's inside?" Severus asked him, from over my shoulder.

"I'm not sure, but it will be dangerous to enter. Don't touch anything made from gold, or that looks valuable." He paused "actually I think we should seal it again straight away, to contain the remaining curses."

Severus went over to the entrance, but it was impossible to see inside because of all the smoke from the burning incense. As the smoke swirled around him his olive clothing blended in and for a moment I wasn't sure if he was still there. Suddenly I was worried he'd tried to enter the tomb. What if….. But the smoke cleared for a moment and I saw Severus standing by the entrance, wand ready. He muttered something quietly and the door to the tomb closed up with a final clunk.

Suddenly it seemed very quiet again. I realised there had been a presence, unheard and unseen, but there nevertheless and the sealing of the tomb had shut it in. We were back to silence, the quiet of the desert. If it were not for the purring of the cat I might have had trouble believing any of the last five minutes had actually happened.

We walked silently back to the village, Morpheus in the lead, the feathers safely stowed away in my bag. The normality of the village soothed me. The sound of cars driving by, the bark of a dog, squeals of children playing behind a high-walled courtyard. I hadn't realised how nervous I'd been, about what we might discover, and with concern for the safety of my two companions.

Severus led us to a café and we sat outside sipping mint tea, under the shade as the rising heat of the day beat down on the already parched street.

"We'll go back to our lodgings" said Severus, eventually "I think you owe us an explanation, Siggy."

…

Morpheus sat on Siggy's bed, washing himself thoroughly, pausing occasionally to inspect the humans with an appraising eye.

Severus cleared his throat "Well?"

Siggy began…"Well, Uncle Ambrose and I came here last year. He'd heard there was some amazing treasure in the tomb, but couldn't work out how to break in. He thought there were ghouls or something like that inside because of the moaning sound. But I felt something different. There was something trapped in the tomb but I realised after Uncle Ambrose failed that it could only be opened from the inside. Obviously apparating into an unknown tomb, protected by curses was stupid, so I did some reading in the Restricted Section once I got to School last September. Most people would be looking for a means to force a way in, but I realised I needed to bring gold or precious items into the tomb before it would let anything out. Morpheus apparated in with a bag of gold and precious things. This released the restraining curse, and allowed the phoenix to burn the incense it needed to be re-born. You saw the rest. There is a lot of valuable stuff in the tomb now, but I wouldn't try to get it out."

"Where did you get the valuables?" asked Severus.

"Errr. Morpheus found things that he liked. He collects stuff, you know. And I gave him some catnip so he could apparate." Siggy looked a little nervous as he said this, knowing full well he'd been told expressly not to allow any catnip. Morpheus, as if sensing himself the subject of the conversation, paused and watched us carefully, before resuming his wash.

"And to whom did those expensive little trinkets belong?" continued Severus.

I could see that up to now Siggy hadn't considered ownership of much importance. He seemed more concerned with the welfare of the magical creatures he encountered than the people. He looked down and fiddled with his shoelaces.

"….I hope none belonged to Mr Valentinas."

My heart sank. After all that lovely hospitality, those bathrooms….what could I say!

"Oh no! Morpheus is much smarter than that."

Severus scowled at the unintended slight.

"Is there anything else you wanted to do here?" asked Severus.

"No."

"Then we should be on our way. Pack up your bags immediately; I'll have a word with our hosts about transport."

When he'd gone I looked across at Siggy. Who looked at me and grinned. He was pleased with himself; being able to free the phoenix was more important to him than the gold, and for once it was all his own work. We had stood back watching just in case, but I could see from the light in his eyes that this was a big step for Siggy, and I was pleased for him. I grinned back.

It was a long and painful journey back on the bus, worse because I knew in advance how uncomfortable it was going to be. My bones rattled and I bounced on the seat at every pot-hole; I must have bruises on my bruises. Severus kept to himself, not talking, but watching us sideways out of half-closed eyes, smirking occasionally, though I saw nothing to be happy about.

Siggy chattered along to Morpheus like the cat knew what he was saying. I confess I do that with Crookshanks, but shhhhh.

I recalled that Siggy said he'd been in the Restricted Section of the Library, and I wondered who had let a First year in there. Not Severus, I'm sure, as he frowned when he heard of it.

Ooooffffff! I'm worn out, so I'll finish here, before I fall asleep on this blissfully soft bed. Write to me soon, letting me know how everyone is doing.

Love

Hermione

* * *

><p>18 July<p>

Part 2 – the assault

We rose fairly early that morning, none the worse for our interrupted sleep. No one mentioned it, so I chose to keep my own counsel regarding the incident. Siggy was looking a bit hollow-eyed; if he did indeed tap into my dream, I shouldn't wonder he's a bit frayed about the edges. My dreams tend not to be the most pleasant sort.

He led us to the tomb of interest, which from what I could make of the hieroglyphs was the resting place of the wizard Amahté-Sabé, claimed to be the "Possessor of the Living Flame". I could find nothing else that itemized the curses on the place, and glanced at Siggy. He had seated himself on the ground about 2 or 3 yards from the tomb, and was staring fixedly at the door. I could feel that slight pressure behind my eyes that lets me know another Legilimens is operating nearby, so I knew that Siggy was communicating with something either in the tomb, or in the vicinity. So I waited.

Hermione, of course, being a Gryffindor, is all action and to hell with planning. After about 10 minutes, she was about to speak to Siggy and interrupt his concentration – I managed to catch her eye before she could blurt out some nonsense and possibly ruin the entire proceedings. I shook my head at her, and made it obvious I was ready with my wand. As if I'd be just skylarking around while a 12 year old tried his hand at curse-breaking… She shut her mouth with an almost audible snap and continued shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Finally Siggy's curse breaking bore fruit - or rather, a maneki neko. After much smoke, wailing, and quite unnecessary pyrotechnics, the tomb opened and who should stroll out but his dratted cat. Which promptly leapt into Siggy's arms, coating him in tomb dust.

Wonderful.

I had just settled my wand back when, much to my surprise, a superb specimen of an Arabian phoenix left the tomb and flew away, gifting each of us with a feather. I must admit, this was completely unlooked for – I daresay my jaw dropped as much as Hermione's did, although I like to think I closed mine almost immediately. Hermione did not. Siggy caught his with a joyful laugh, Hermione and I a bit later (once we came out of our shock). Phoenix feathers are not gifted lightly…

After a bit of thought, Siggy agreed that it would be best to seal the tomb again, which I did immediately. A good thing, too, for the spirit in the tomb was preparing to work some sort of mischief.

We walked back to the village, each lost in our own thoughts. I am eager to research meanings of phoenix feathers, although most likely I will be overthinking it as usual, and it will be nothing more than a particularly rare and lovely gift, bestowed as thanks for releasing the creature from the tomb...

After refreshing ourselves with mint tea, we returned to our lodgings. Siggy explained how he was able to break the tomb and release the phoenix. Satisfied that he'd not engaged in any Dark Magic, and that Morpheus hadn't pilfered from any embarrassing sources, I directed the two to pack while I settled up with our hosts.

I must inquire further of Siggy how he managed to gain access to the Restricted Section of the library. I know Potter managed it, because he had his felonious father's Invisibility Cloak, but surely Siggy has nothing of the kind... I shall have to investigate this.

Our journey back was in the same 2-strips-of-leather-and-a-prayer jitney we arrived in. I had managed to procure a soft cushion from our hosts in exchange for a few coins, and traveled in relative comfort while watching Hermione bounce most deliciously. I'm sure she caught me observing her several times, but I don't seem to care anymore - in fact I believe I'd welcome her noticing me noticing her.

Naturally I Disillusioned the cushion before settling on it – if she'd seen it, she might have attempted an appeal to my more gentlemanly instincts and requested the use of it. Hah!

I shall of course gallantly offer my Debruising Lotion again, as well as my services as the applicator. One thing I shall _not_ be offering is my opinion on the suitability of her undergarments - that would spoil all the fun of Hermione in motion!


	6. Chapter 6

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 6 – The Bookstalls of Ismailia

Hi Ginny

It was good to get your last letter. I'd like to hear more about what's happening back home. I've only been in Egypt a short time, but it seems so far away from home. Everything is different.

So Ron was going to check up on me, was he? And to what end? It's not as if we've been seeing each other lately. It seems he only gets jealous when I spend time with someone else. The rest of the time he ignores me. It's more ridiculous than words can express he should see Severus as a rival. Since when did I need Ron to rescue me, anyway? I can take care of myself. Oh, grrrrrrrrrrr…. I'm getting angry just thinking about the stupid prat.

Well, I consider myself a free agent so Ron can take a run and jump if he expects me to wait around, just in case.

Sorry, rant over.

I think you are right about Siggy being a step ahead of his Professor. Madame Pince told me how Siggy used Morpheus to get into the Restricted Section of the library, and she gave a blow by blow account of what happened to Siggy's Uncle Ambrose. Gruesome. I heard Morpheus left the splinched bits of him with Rita Skeeter. Perhaps Morpheus is the brains of the two. I'll ask Siggy about the tomb and the curses so you can tell Bill all about it.

But back to our trip!

Yesterday we went to Ismailia on the hunt for some books Severus was keen to buy. Thankfully we were able to floo; I've had enough authentic Muggle transport this trip.

Siggy, Severus and I went to walk around the Magical market. Because it was very crowded Severus put a binding charm on us, so we wouldn't get carried away in the crush or, in Siggy's case, wander off unattended. I think Severus would have liked to go, find, buy, leave, but Siggy and I were wide-eyed at the carpets, brassware, china, spices, clothes, and so on. The market was spectacular, better than I imagined, with so much to distract us.

Siggy and I made a few interesting purchases, before Severus took us to the bookstalls. They were packed to the ceiling with books, old and new, some stalls specialising in a particular branch of magic. One book I picked up was a selection of articles by several authors in different languages, the earliest from 1444, on wand-making, all bound together in one lovingly-crafted volume.

Severus also showed me a tatty old book which didn't look much from the cover, but when opened with a revealing charm….well…. I couldn't help gasp! Suddenly I wanted that book more than anything. I looked pleadingly at Severus, who rolled his eyes, haggled half-heartedly for a bit and then huffed and ungraciously paid up. I think it was rather expensive.

Afterwards we went to a café for tea and bumped into Angelina Johnson with her family! They were on Holiday and showed us photos of them in front of all the interesting places _we_ haven't got to yet. Severus sniffed at their suggestion we do some tourist sites, saying he'd made enough concessions from his original plans. Angelina kept looking at me in undisguised curiosity as if she couldn't work out why I was travelling with Siggy and Severus.

He gave Angelina a letter to take to Prof McGonagall as they are going home tomorrow. I don't know why he chose personal delivery over regular post. Sometimes I think he just wants to appear mysterious, he refuses to answer my questions and smirks at my irritation.

Ah, dinner time! Must go, more later…

Later…

We've had dinner and made our plans for tomorrow. I've had a lovely evening. Siggy amused himself playing with Morpheus. Severus and I discussed an interesting article in a potions journal just published. It felt good talking with him about innovations and new ideas. At School it was mostly about following the instructions and avoiding explosions, but discussing experimental potions research is much more interesting.

We sat up 'till late Severus being almost cheerful. I say almost, because – well, that book I mentioned earlier. Apparently the Bookstall owner noticed how much I wanted it and refused to drop the price. It cost Severus more than he wanted to pay. Imagine the scene, Ginny, as The MOB glares down at me and says

"In future you will not interfere when I am making my purchases."

Ooops!

Well, just one more stop before we head to Romania. I'll write as soon as I can.

Best wishes

Hermione.

* * *

><p>20 July<p>

We Floo'ed to Ismailia today after yesterday's freedom. I particularly wanted to find a book on phoenixes (phoenices? phoenicii? who knows…) and the uses of their feathers – I know Ollivander prizes them for wand cores, but I feel there is a deeper meaning behind these three gifted to us. I cannot believe that we broke into an ancient tomb just to release a phoenix and receive wand cores. While a handsome gift, it's not really practical.

I think I have an idea regarding where Morpheus gathered his collection of shiny things. I wonder if Albus has noticed any of his gadgets missing… heh. The beast may have some redeeming qualities after all…

I found a book on spells that I'm sure Filius will enjoy. And apparently the estimable Ms Granger forgot to charm her hair today – it was a-frizz and a-bush as though it had never been tamed! Quite reminiscent of school days. I managed to snap some discreet photos of it as proof, and so I felt magnanimous enough to buy the book – Filius can pay me back when he makes good on our little wager. Ah, it was A Good Day.

Well. Except for an unscheduled purchase. In one bookstall, I located a copy of _Le Bréviaire de Flamel_ by none other than Nicholas Flamel, which was hidden by a most subtle concealment charm. I picked it up and showed it to Hermione, who seemed puzzled as to why I would show her such a tattered old book. I triggered the revealment charm, and I was concerned her eyes would fall out of her head when she saw what it was. She flipped through it quickly, then turned those doe eyes on me and… well.

Unfortunately, the bookseller saw this little by-play, and I was unable to haggle him down enough to make me happy. I paid what he wanted, because Hermione desired the book so, but I was not pleased about it. I shall have to discuss the fine art of bargaining with her if she is going to accompany me to any other marketplaces. I have some put aside, but I am _not_ a rich man…

I have also sent Minerva the note I promised her. I met with Mrs. Angelina Weasley (_née_ Johnson) as planned, gave her the letter, managed to sidestep yet more tourist drudgery (I cannot believe she married George Weasley… poor chap), and she will see it is delivered. Hermione was most curious as to the contents of the letter. I enjoyed being quite mysterious and secretive, when the letter was simply a list of available books from a particular bookseller. I almost felt like a spy again!

Shudder. Perish the thought.

Spent a very pleasant, relaxing evening, Siggy playing with Morpheus, a bit of string, and a small shiny bauble he picked up (Siggy, not Morpheus) at the _souk_ with some money I gave him, and Hermione and I discussing a fascinating article on the use of moonstone in Wolfsbane Potion as an enhancer. We had a lively debate going, I taking the position that the potion works fine as it is, Hermione defending the use of a new ingredient which could possibly make it more efficacious for a longer period of time. It's been many a year since I had the pleasure of discussing and arguing the fine points of Potion-making…

I did have to mention the occurrence at the bookseller's, though. "You will find that business done in the Middle East is an entirely different creature than that in the West," I said. "The ability to maintain a poker face is a necessity, and your obvious desire for the Flamel book resulted in my paying roughly half again what it was worth."

She paled a bit, but that Gryffindor courage flared up. "I'd be happy to reimburse you, _Professor,_" she retorted, with a slight toss of her head. Ouch. I winced, glared at her, and told her that would not be necessary, but she was not to interfere in my purchases in future.

We sat stonily for a few moments, but then Morpheus did something astoundingly funny (which I cannot recall), and we all laughed uproariously at his antics. Then we picked up our Moonstone: Good or Bad debate and spent the rest of the evening in cheerful collegiality.


	7. Chapter 7

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 7 – Siggy Snatched

Hi Ginny

We are just finishing our packing up ready to leave for Romania. We are back at Mr Valentinas' house for the night. The last day of gathering ingredients started uneventfully.

Siggy was well-behaved and Morpheus accompanied us as we visited some small side-alley Apothecaries. Each shop we visited was stuffed with ever-more revolting artefacts in jars, baskets and cabinets - to deter curious fingers (you-know-whose).

Morpheus jumped up onto the counter in one shop we visited and watched all the customers carefully from his vantage point. He really looked like he understood it all. I saw Severus pull Siggy's hand away from something best left undescribed. The boy has an insatiable curiosity which, combined with a lack of caution, means you need eyes in the back of your head to keep track of him.

In the last shop we went to someone recognised Siggy, perhaps from his previous trip. The elderly man gently touched Siggy's arm and spoke quietly to him. I saw Siggy shake his head. I meant to ask him about it later, but events overtook us.

On our way back to Mr Valentinas' I was softly daydreaming of a nice cool shower, when I felt a strong tug pulling me backwards - so sharply I landed on my arse. It was the binding charm reaching the limit of its range. I looked round and saw Siggy struggling under someone's arm. They were trying to drag him off but he was putting up a good fight.

I shouted and jumped up, but was shoved aside as Severus barged through the crowd like a knife through butter and grabbed at the attackers. He managed to get his hand on one but the other disapparated with Siggy.

If I'd been the man in Severus' grasp I'd have spilled all the beans straight away, he looked murderous. He struggled for a few moments before being shoved up against the wall. His face went slack and I realised Severus was using Legilimency to find out what had happened. It seemed like ages as I watched, but couldn't have been more than a minute or so. With a snarl Severus shook him like a rat and the man slumped in a heap, stunned.

Severus turned to me and said, "They've broken the binding charm and taken him to a place nearby. You will have to come with me; I can't leave you alone now. Have your wand ready."

And with that he grabbed my arm firmly and disapparated. I staggered a bit as we arrived in - a small modern hotel room. Is it strange that the first thing I noticed is that the room was air-conditioned?  
>Siggy was sat cross-legged on a chair arguing with a man in a Muggle suit sitting on the sofa opposite. The look of surprise on his face when we appeared in front of him!<p>

"Just what do you think you are doing?" demanded Severus, wand pointing directly between the man's eyes.

Give credit where it's due, the man was a quick thinker. "We wanted to borrow the lad for a few hours, a consultation only, concerning access to a tomb we have had our eyes on for a while," the man replied in a rather whiny voice. "There's never been a problem before with making use of his skills," he continued, as if affronted that his uncivil means of obtaining that service were irrelevant. And, as you might have expected, Severus was not convinced.

"He is currently in our employ and I do not take kindly to having him snatched away without even an attempt at negotiation," Severus snapped.

"His uncle was always amenable before…." argued the man.

"His uncle is dead." Severus scowled down at him in an all-to-familiar manner, "and before you ask - I did."

The man's eyes widened. "I heard some rumours, but couldn't be sure what the papers said was true."

It interested me that Severus was claiming to have been responsible for the death of the late unlamented Uncle Ambrose, when I knew that wasn't the case, but neither Siggy nor I said anything. We glanced at each other and edged closer to Severus, however.

"We are leaving now. Do not attempt to follow us or to approach the boy again. You will regret it."  
>And with that he grasped one in each hand and disapparated us to a side street behind a cafe near our hotel.<p>

As soon as he established our rooms were safe the questions began….

"Did you know them…. where….when….?"

"What did they say about what they wanted?"

….and so on, with a shaken Siggy trying to keep up with the barrage of questions. Apparently he had met the man on a previous trip with his uncle and remembered seeing him the day we went to buy books, but didn't have a chance to speak to him then. Today the man had asked for his help in some enterprise to catch a rare creature, but Siggy didn't expect anything bad to happen as a result of his refusal.

After Severus had finished his interrogation Siggy sat on the floor disconsolate, fretfully picking at a loose thread on the carpet. He looked thoroughly miserable.

I watched Severus pace up and down the room. He frowned, muttered and huffed as he went to and fro. He wanted to go find out more but couldn't leave us alone while he did so. Instead he sent several owls and asked up to pack our things quickly. While we waited for the replies, he explained that we would return to Mr Valentinas' ahead of schedule.

In order to distract Siggy from his misery Severus demonstrated the wordless repelling charm which had allowed him to push through the crowd with ease._ Useful in school corridors too_, I thought with a smile. He also explained the binding charm he'd used was a particularly strong one, used to prevent or delay apparition and it began to dawn on me that Severus had been anticipating trouble.

If I'd have thought about it, Siggy's uncle would not be the only one wanting to take advantage of his skills. It must have been quite a strain on Severus to remain alert at all times and I wondered why he hadn't asked me to share the burden. I've spent a lot of time having fun, when I could have been more help.

Within the hour Mr Valentinas arrived with a Portkey and we found ourselves back in his lovely house full of comforts and good memories. On the doorstep waiting to greet us were the charming Omar and the mysterious Morpheus. I swear they were both smiling.

Well, I'll write a bit more soon, when we get to Romania. But before I do so, a word to the wise….if Ron tries to interfere any more I swear I'll….I'll….Listen, I don't need any help! I've _enjoyed _this trip and though I've had as much excitement as I need for today, it's been a lot more fun than listening to Ron ramble on about Auror training and quidditch scores all summer.

Give my love to Molly and of course I'd love to have dinner with you all when I get back.

Love

Hermione

* * *

><p>21 July<p>

Intrigue follows our young Whetstone like night follows day, it seems. And I was prepared for it.

We visited the Wizarding _souk_ again today, to fill the holes in my Potions requirements. I took the precaution of setting a binding charm on all three of us, knowing that Hermione can get distracted and Siggy likes to wander off on his own, much like his feline partner in crime. Who I also included in the charm – we didn't need to leave for Romania leaving Morpheus behind, especially since I've cut him off from fresh catnip, so he would be unable to apparate. (Where _is_ the boy keeping it, I wonder…)

Without seeming to, I managed to keep an eye on Siggy at all times. I'd had a warning by owl from Ogdoad that some questionable individuals had been inquiring about him, wanting to know when he'd return and if he was still "available". I didn't like the sound of that (who knows what it meant – his uncle was truly that much of a beast), so I decided that we would all be connected by a particularly strong binding charm, and that I would watch the boy like a hawk.

This proved provident, since it allowed me to stop him from grabbing a handful of desiccated scorpion venom, prepared in a gel of hagfish slime, something that could have dissolved his fingers in seconds. How do parents do it…? I swear I'd run mad, gibbering under the moon, if I had to do this for years on end.

I noticed in the last shop an elderly man stop the boy and speak to him. I faded into the shadows, cast _Exaudio_ so I could hear them from a distance, and watched. "Come with us now, boy," the man said. "We need your services." Siggy shook his head, looked about, and headed for Hermione. I marked the man in my memory. Right. We'll see about you.

I gathered my chicks together, called the excursion to a halt, and headed back to our hotel, trying to watch in all directions at once. We were almost there, when Siggy managed to dart off to look at something, and two ruffians grabbed him – one of them the man from the shop.

"Damn and blast it all to HELL!" I thought, and used the force of the binding charm to part the crowd so I could get to them. I managed to grab a handful of one's coat, but the other disapparated, taking Siggy with him. I felt one fourth of the charm disappear.

I dragged the one I'd caught down a nearby alley and slammed him against the wall. Without a by-your-leave, I dove into his mind, Legilimencing him within an inch of his life. It was simple – the other had taken Siggy to a nearby _funduq_ and now I had the location from the rascal's mind. I shook him in my fury and flung him to the ground. I frankly didn't care if I'd killed him.

I turned to Hermione and told her the binding spell was broken but that I knew where to find Siggy. "You can't stay here, so you must come with me. Get out your wand and be ready to fight." I knew she was frightened (probably by my face – I could feel the snarl on it), but that Gryffindor courage rose in her and she took my hand with the same strength as she displayed during the war, and with no hesitation.

We apparated into a small, relatively well-appointed room at one of the better _funduqs_ in town. I saw first that Siggy was quite healthy and safe, and that a man in Muggle clothing was talking to him. Morpheus, who had followed us, leaped into Siggy's lap and began growling at the man.

I strode over to the stranger, pointed my wand in his face, and snarled, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

The man made some feeble excuse regarding wanting to employ Siggy as a consultant – I leaned into him and touched my wand to his forehead. "He is currently in our employ and I do not take kindly to having him snatched away without even an attempt at negotiation," I grated out.

"His uncle was always amenable before…," he started.

"His uncle is dead." I fixed him with one of my best scowls. "And before you ask – yes, I did."

The man's eyes widened and the blood drained out of his face. "I heard some rumours, but couldn't be sure what the papers said was true."

I pressed my wand deeper into his forehead. "Trust me. It was quite true."

Of course I had nothing to do with the demise of Dear Departed Uncle Ambrose, but with this sort of scum it never hurts to build one's reputation for mayhem. Morpheus leaped onto my shoulder, leaning forward and snarling. Hermione and Siggy moved close to me.

"We are leaving now. Do not attempt to follow us or to approach the boy again. You _will_ regret it," I warned and, keeping my wand pointed at him, grasped Siggy's hand. Hermione grasped the other, and I disapparated us to the café near our hotel.

I hurried our party into my room, set wards all around, and then began interrogating young Mr Whetstone. I was a bit harsh about it, no doubt due to the fright and the leftover adrenaline, so I made a conscious effort to calm down. I discovered that Beastly Uncle A had made quite a little side business of hiring out Siggy to anyone with the price, for the purpose of capturing strange and magical creatures. Shaking with anger, I paced up and down the room, muttering to myself. My fists were clenched so tightly that I have small half-moon marks in my palms from my nails biting in.

While I'm not the greatest enthusiast of children, and certainly don't regret never having any, the very _idea_ of someone so blatantly and without conscience renting out a child of their own flesh and blood… I simply don't have the words to express the depths of my loathing and fury at Beastly Uncle, at our late kidnappers, even a bit leftover for Albus and his use of Potter, no matter how the end was justified. I have _never_ been able to become reconciled to that…

I needed to investigate this immediately, but I couldn't leave the boy and Hermione alone – they would be in danger. I released the wards, requested parchment, a quill, ink and the use of the café owls, then assured my chicks that we would be returning to Ogdoad's directly. After I got my materials, I hastily sent owls to Ogdoad, the Ministry, the Egyptian Ministry, and to a particularly efficient Egyptian auror I've come to know, and reset my wards.

Once that was done, I noticed with a start how sad and disconsolate Siggy was. My god, the boy probably thought I was furious with him – I'd certainly done nothing but rant and rave since we'd entered the hotel, and then I'd battered him with questions as if _he_ had done something wrong. Oh, well done, Severus. Guardian of the Year material, no doubt about it.

I sat down on the carpet in front of him, caught his mind with mine, and told him he had done well and that I was quite pleased with his conduct. "You are not in any way to blame, young man," I told him. "Don't consider that for a moment." Legilimency is a handy thing sometimes, especially when you're dealing with another who is highly skilled. And who may not necessarily want to appear vulnerable in front of a lovely young lady…

I sat back and said, "Now, if you can manage to cease attempting to unravel this fine specimen of the rug maker's art, I'll be happy to show you both that binding charm." Siggy brightened up considerably, stopped picking at loose threads in the carpet, and I spent a somewhat more relaxing hour teaching a pair of bright and apt students.

While working with Hermione, I again realized that she is a grown woman, and could have been assisting me in safeguarding Siggy all along, especially today. I'm so accustomed to working alone, it never crossed my mind how much of an asset she could have been all this time. There was really no need for me to act the protector of both – this young lioness needed none from me.

Hm. An equal. What a fascinating proposition.

Ogdoad arrived with a Portkey just as Hermione and Siggy mastered the binding charm. We returned to his home, and were greeted by the gracious nephew Omar and, surprisingly, Morpheus! I have no idea how he managed to precede us to Ogdoad's, but there he was. There's much, much more to this cat than meets the eye…


	8. Chapter 8

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 8 – Romania

Dear Ginny

Greetings from sunny Romania. The rest of our stay in Egypt was uneventful you will be pleased to hear. We were accompanied to the apparition place by friends of Mr Valentinas.

Once in Romania we flooed to the town nearest the Reserve and finished the journey at night on brooms. I hate flying! I was cold, uncomfortable, and giddy. Severus offered me a potion for air-sickness but gave the impression it was more for the sake of those on the ground than for me. He has a way with words.

I've never been so glad to get off a broom. I swear I never, ever will fly again even if it means walking back home from here!

I passed on your Mum's letter to Charlie. He laughed when he read it. I'm dying to know what she wrote. He's enjoying his work immensely, as I expect you know. He's a picture of health due to all that outdoor activity. They fly on patrols every day (yes, I declined) on fire-proofed brooms and take regular observations of the dragons and their habits.

They have a healthy respect for the creatures -

"_…you can never turn your back on a dragon, however well you think you might know them_."

In the guest rooms there are posters up on the walls of all the different kinds of dragons kept at the Reserve. Siggy was awestruck and can't wait to go have a look at the real ones. He is promised a visit to see Bobby (the not-so-baby Basilisk) tomorrow. Severus is giving that side-trip a miss.

Severus is after the rare Resurrection flower. I'm not quite sure what for but I'm allowed to go along. I think I might take a picnic. Haven't used the tea set so far and I didn't want to have brought it in vain.  
>Oh, one of Charlie's workmates is coming along tomorrow. Handsome is not the word, but I can't think of a better one so far!<p>

See you soon

Love

Hermione

* * *

><p>22 July<p>

We have arrived in Romania, and have been cheerfully greeted by Charlie Weasley in typical Weasley fashion. The last leg of our journey was by broom, which I don't particularly care for, and which apparently the redoubtable Ms Granger positively loathes. She turned some rather interesting shades of green on the trip, owing no doubt to the flight being at night (we couldn't see any ground landmarks, which gives a rather peculiar sensation of being suspended in nothingness), scattered rain/snow, and quite a bit of wind turbulence.

I offered her some _Nix Vomica_ potion, but I may have worded my offer a bit clumsily. Thinking back, I suppose saying, "Here, take this. We don't need you gracing the locals with an unexpected air drop" could have conveyed a certain lack of sympathy for air sickness… and my word, if looks could kill, she would have finished what Tom Riddle started!

Siggy of course found the flight a pure lark. I'm not sure Morpheus did – I could hear him howling and complaining in his basket from two dragonlengths away!

At any rate, we arrived at the dragon reserve with no problems (or unexpected air drops), and were conducted to our lodgings – very comfortable guest rooms in the main hall.

I had some rather interesting owls awaiting me from Albus, Ginny Potter, and Molly Weasley. Seems young Ronald Weasley is taking this entire trip rather poorly – he fancies I'm "out to get" Hermione or something. That phrase could be interpreted in several ways, some more intriguingly than others, and which I would no doubt quite enjoy. (As would she, if I do say do myself.) He's apparently been threatening Albus with legal action, pleading with Ginny to get Potter to come save Hermione from my dastardly clutches, and whinging to Molly about how much he adores Hermione and would "just curl up and die" if anything happened to her while with me.

Ha. It is my considered opinion that, if young Mr Weasley stood a chance with the estimable Ms Granger, there would have already been a redistribution of surnames. It would not surprise me one whit if Hermione has not been attempting to scrape Ronald off for quite some time – a more mismatched pair I never saw in 25 years at Hogwarts. Not even Lily and the execrable James Potter were so poorly matched as Hermione and Ron.

In truth, I rather expected young Potter and Hermione to end up together – he is a bit brighter than Ronald, as much as it makes me grit my teeth to admit it. Although Ginevra has turned out to be a good match for him – she keeps him well in line and his nose to the grindstone. I wonder if she could teach me that trick… I expect young Potter spawn to be arriving at Hogwarts before long…

Ah well. I should retire, as it will be a long day tomorrow. I must locate a good deal of Resurrection Flower tomorrow, my stores are frighteningly low, Hermione wants a picnic, and Siggy wants to go visit Bobby, the ashwinder/basilisk cross that almost put me 6 feet under at the start of last school year. I don't believe I shall accompany him on that little visit.

A picnic with Hermione, though, should be quite interesting. Except for the oaf that Charlie has detailed to accompany us. I feel like a scrawny 4th year next to him. Which makes me wonder, why do I even care? Hmmm…

* * *

><p>Dear Ginny<p>

I have to say overall it's been a wonderful trip. I've learned a lot, gone interesting places, seen the better side of Severus (yes he does have one) and enjoyed the company of the delightful young Siggy Whetstone. Up to yesterday I could even say I'd do it again.

But I am never, never, ever getting on a broom again.

It went like this. Siggy had already set out with the Head Ranger to visit Bobby. I was chatting to Gregor over breakfast, very much looking forward to our walk to find the flowers but as I prepared food for the picnic Gregor dropped the bombshell - we had to travel by broom.

No. Other. Way.

Well, I didn't want to sit in the cabin all day while everyone else had fun, or miss the chance to spend some time with gorgeous Gregor, or give Severus the satisfaction of another smirk – so I took a deep breath and said I'd still be going. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

It was a bright day and they gave me a slow but smooth-running broom with a soft seat. Gregor took point with Severus and me behind. After about half an hour of flying in warm sunny skies we started to descend to our hillside destination. I was beginning to get my wings and almost relaxed. Suddenly a shout went up. Large green dragon on our left, catching up fast. I wobbled as I looked over my shoulder, and tried to speed up. But the ancient broom just wouldn't do it and the beast kept getting closer. I saw Severus look back and cast a spell.

"Hold on tight!" he yelled, quite unnecessarily.

Immediately I felt a pull on my broom. I was being dragged along by a binding charm, tied to Severus' broom like a water-skier on a tow line. He turned sharply to the right and I swung wildly to one side shrieking like a banshee. I'm sure I ended up spinning at one point. My eyes were closed, so I can't swear to it, but I did swear at Severus. Frequently. Up and down, left and right we went 'till a savage lurch loosed the lid on the picnic basket I'd tied behind the broom seat. The contents, including my beautiful tea set, scattered in all directions in a shower of china and cucumber sandwiches. Surprisingly this caught the attention of the dragon which turned away and abandoned the chase.

Gregor led us over the next ridge and down into a grassy meadow. Having abandoned all pretence at finesse I landed with a thump and bounced down the slope. My head was spinning, I couldn't move, I could hardly breathe. As the world slowly came back into focus I realised someone was talking. Gregor had put his strong manly arm around my shoulder and was asking if I was alright. Oh Ginny, if only I could have held it together a bit longer. Regrettably my stomach was still turning over and I lurched to one side and threw up horribly. Gregor grimaced and Severus sneered. I was mortified. Seeing the wreckage of my expectations spread across a Romanian hillside I did the only thing that would make it worse. I burst into tears.

I couldn't bear to stay with Gregor as he started inspecting the brooms for damage so, rather unsteadily and trying not to sniff, I followed Severus towards a stream flowing prettily down the hill.

Nothing was said until he paused at a bush, gathered some berries and said

"Eat these, you will feel better."

It was as close to an apology as I was going to get.

He fetched some water from the stream and I sipped at it, watching as he strode ahead looking around for signs of his precious flower. I lay back on the grassy bank in the warm sunshine grateful to be on solid ground. How quickly things can spin out of control. I worried momentarily about Siggy, hoping he was OK. But he was with an experienced Ranger and I tried not to fret. Such a curious boy; clever, practical, level-headed and devious enough to get the better of Severus more than once. I decided to keep in touch with Siggy once the trip was over.

I must have dozed off. The next thing I knew Severus was sitting next to me on the grass saying we should be getting back. I wondered why he said it so gently, then realised the only way back was on a broom. I opened my mouth to protest but he was ahead of me.

"You can travel with me on my broom. You have no need to worry, I'll hold you tightly and I've got a calming draught if you need it."

There seemed no alternative, so that's how we travelled back.

First thing I did at the cabin was take a long hot shower. I realised I was shaking despite the warmth. A series of deep slow breaths, a fluffy towel and my softest clothes provided comforts enough to help me relax. A delicious dinner of bread and stew provided the nourishment I'd missed all day. The wine finished me off. I was nodding off by nine o'clock.

Siggy was also tired after a long day but full of chatter about Bobby and how happy he was in his new home. He'd spent the afternoon learning a million new things about basilisks, dragons and all kinds of other creatures. I wondered if he'd end up like Charlie, or if he'd pursue a more academic career. Plenty of time to decide, I suppose.

He was goggle-eyed as Gregor told him about being chased by a dragon. He went so far as to say he wished he'd been there! I suddenly felt very old. I looked across at Severus. He was smiling.

We're packing up tonight, and will be home tomorrow. I really need a day to recover so is it OK if I come to dinner the day after?

Love

Hermione

* * *

><p>23 July<p>

Oh hell. Oh hell. I almost lost her today. Damn brooms, damn The Oaf Gregor, damn dragons, damn this side trip to Romania, damn my need for Resurrection Flowers.

Damn me.

I can't write about it now. Maybe later.

Oh thank whatever grace watches out for insufferable know-it-all brilliant beautiful Gryffindor lionesses who fly on slow brooms…

Never again. Never again.

What if I'd lost her… Oh damn.


	9. Chapter 9

_Authors' Notes: This story is part of an ongoing epic involving a natural Legilimens named Sydney (Siggy) Whetstone, a first year student at Hogwarts, his cat Morpheus, Severus Snape (who has become Siggy's guardian following the death of his abusive uncle), and Hermione Granger, who is studying Morpheus, a maneki neko with unusual magical powers. It takes place in roughly 2007 or thereabouts._

A Trip To Remember

_A collaborative effort by Sinistra_Furze and SadiraSnape_

CHAPTER 9 – The Last Evening

"Goodnight Siggy" I said, and turned to leave, "If you need anything in the night don't hesitate to call me, I'm just across the hall."

"Thanks" he smiled, his eyelids already drooping. _He'll be asleep before long_.

I stepped back into the guests' lounge, and dropped onto the comfortable sofa with a sigh. The wine had relaxed me somewhat but I hadn't fully let go of the tension after the wild broom ride earlier in the day. My hair had resisted all taming charms; I'd given up and tied it back loosely. Severus looked at me from his armchair.

"How is he?" he asked quietly.

"Fine" I replied. "He's probably asleep already."

Severus hesitated a moment. I wondered if there was more bad news...

"…and how are you?" he continued.

For a moment I was too surprised to speak. The MOB was asking how I was feeling. I considered the question.

How _was_ I feeling?

"I'm tired and a little tense," I said honestly.

He got up and pulled a bar of chocolate from his pocket.

"This might help," he said as he held it out. It took a moment to sink in. Severus offering chocolate! He saw my hesitation and frowned. Quickly I reached out before he could withdraw the offer and took it, not wanting to offend him. I broke up the bar and raising an eyebrow offered him a piece, which he took while he stood waiting for me to eat a chunk. There must have been some doubt on my face as he said, "It's not just for dementors."

"No, it's for birthdays and apologies and watching trashy movies with your friends," I blurted. Too much wine dammit, too much information for Severus who stood awkwardly in front of me.

"Err, why don't you sit here so we can share it" I said, trying to break the tension. The moment he sat down on the sofa Morpheus jumped up and settled on Severus' lap, purring contentedly. He stroked Morpheus absently, staring at his hands.I placed the wrapper between us and wriggled more comfortably into the cushions.

My mind drifted back to the return journey I'd shared on Severus' broom. He'd taken charge and had me sitting securely in front of him before I'd realised the broom was there. Must have been the calming draught dulling my senses. But then again the memory of his strong arm around my waist and the firm muscles of his warm body were vivid enough in my memory. _Another first_, I thought and struggled to contain a blush that grew uncomfortably.

"You look a bit pink..." he observed.

"Just the wine, I had a glass too many."

"Ah, I see."

I took another chunk just for something to do. I was used to a comfortable silence between us of an evening, but for some reason I was feeling nervous. Severus took another piece and when he had finished it asked, "What do you intend to do when you get back? Will you return to the Ministry or do you have other plans?"

"I'm not sure," I said. I'd come away partly to get away from all that. "I'd like to stay in contact with Siggy, he's a lovely child with a lot of potential."

"I was hoping you would," he replied "it will benefit him to have an adult outside of the School he can confide in and he really likes you."

I was pleased that Severus had such confidence in me, and warmed again, but with comfort this time. I closed my eyes and melted further into the sofa, lulled by Morpheus' soft purring.

I'm not sure how much later it was I woke. I realised my head was resting on Severus' shoulder and my hand was resting on the empty chocolate wrapper. And Severus' hand was resting on mine. He must have woken the same time as me as he jumped when I moved, disturbing the cat, who stretched, sighed and settled again. I hoped most fervently I hadn't drooled on Severus' shoulder, but there was no way to check discreetly and no remedy anyhow. A bit flustered I struggled to my feet.

"Err, I'd better get to bed. Thanks for the chocolate, thanks for everything," I smiled sleepily in his direction and finally met his gaze. His dark eyes stared at me unblinkingly, his mouth not quite closed. He looked like he was trying to speak.

For a moment I waited but he said nothing so I mumbled sleepily, "Goodnight, then," and staggered to my room. My brain wanted to think it over but I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>Ah. The last evening before we return to Scotland, and it has been quite an interesting and illuminating journey.<p>

We finished our final meal with our host and his household, and he has assured me that he will have us all up early, so we should plan to make it an early night. I repaired to the guest lounge and settled down into the soft chair I've claimed as mine. The latest _Practical Potioneer_ was close to hand; I sent silent thanks to our host and soon was absorbed in a fascinating article on the substitution of American Larch (_Larix laricina_) for Masters' Larch (_Larix mastersiana_) in the production of Mind's Ease Draught.

But I found my mind wandering before long – the trip has been very productive, we have collected all the specimens we set out after, including quite a few we stumbled upon along the way. Siggy has discovered a new-found confidence in himself and is building trust with myself and Hermione. Morpheus is not quite so annoying as he has been in the past. And Hermione herself…

Now there's a thought that bears examination. Miss Hermione Granger. I have found an unexpected depth to her that I'm quite sure wasn't there when she was my student. She is less prone to rattling off rote from some book or other, and her commentary is now mostly based in personal experience and considered research. In fact, I have found some of her commentary extremely profound and worthy of further investigation.

She is also quite lovely, something she most assuredly was not as a student. She is what, 26 or 27 now – somewhere along there. She has bloomed into a most beautiful young woman; not an English rose by any means, but something far rarer and much finer than that. You can find an English rose on almost every street corner; lovely it's true, but a common flower for all that. Hermione, though… Hermione is more like a glorious young tree, perhaps a willow, hiding its grace until an errant wind sets the slender branches swaying. She is far deeper than she appears, much like a willow's roots, and I have found her presence to be a balm in these past months, easing a pain I was unaware I had.

I would like to think I can call her "friend". More than that does not bear examination.

While musing on these thoughts, she came into the lounge, perhaps looking for a bedtime read. I imagined she would have a bit of trouble falling asleep, considering the crazed broom ride we'd had that day. Brooms! What an uncivilized mode of transport… it is truly a pity that carpets are no longer allowed in Britain.

I noticed that her hair had finally succeeded in defying her efforts to tame it – but the look was not as surprising as it was in her childhood. It was still full, true, but instead of bushing out like a deranged hedgehog, it now surrounded her head like an auburn cloud, soft and fine of texture. She had it tied back loosely, so it was framing her face rather than obscuring it. A very fetching look for her. With her complexion, you could mistake her for a Da Vinci, Raphael or Botticelli model.

She sank into the sofa with an audible sigh and propped her feet up on the table. I gazed at her for a few moments; there had been quite an extraordinary Burgundy served at our meal, and we had both indulged in it a bit more than was customary – at least I had. I was a bit light-headed, and I saw that she wore a faint blush herself.

I realized I was on the verge of being caught staring, so I cleared my throat and asked after Siggy. Hermione leaned her head back on the sofa and said, "He's probably asleep already."

I hesitated a moment, then before I knew it, I asked, " …and how are you?" Inwardly I cringed. Severus, you dolt. _How _**_are_**_ you? _Are you meeting her for the first time? God…

During my internal castigation, she had apparently actually given the question some thought. "I'm tired and a little tense," she replied thoughtfully. Tense! Well, I could do something about that. I reached into my pocket and produced a large bar of Honeyduke's Best Chocolate, something I keep with me at all times. Partly for it's magical properties, but mostly because I'm quite a fiend for chocolate. Best thing to come out of the Age of Exploration, if anyone is interested in the opinion of Severus Snape. I rose and crossed to her.

"Here," and I extended the bar to her. "This should help." She eyed the bar with some trepidation – what, did she think I was going to poison her? I stood there for a few moments, and just before I began to pull my hand back, she accepted it. Thank Merlin, that was almost too awkward for words. I had an image of myself standing in the lounge, tall and skinny (again), trying to force a bar of chocolate on an unwilling young woman. Severus, will you _never_ learn to be comfortable with other people? Probably not, I answered myself. Especially when your every move is scrutinized for some ulterior motive.

Hermione unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a large piece, which she then broke into two and, to my surprise, offered back to me! I accepted it, and stood there like a great ninny staring at her, waiting for her to eat. She stared back at me, one eyebrow raised. Was she truly worried there was something odd about the chocolate? I frowned a bit, and said, "It's not just for dementors, you know."

"No," she burst out. "It's for birthdays and apologies and watching trashy movies with your friends!"

Trashy movies? Really… I never would have guessed. But then no one knows I often sneak into Edinburgh to indulge my penchant for Asian horror movies… and yes, chocolate works nicely there.

Hermione scooted over on the sofa and patted the seat next to her. "Why not sit so we can share?" she said. I stepped over and sat down, rather abruptly too, the wine seemed to have affected my balance a bit. And wouldn't you know, as soon as I got settled, here came Morpheus, who immediately hopped up on my lap, turned about three times, and settled in rather smugly, purring like a demented sewing machine. Almost of their own volition, my hands lifted, one sliding around to cradle the cat's chest and front legs, the other slowly stroking his black, glossy fur. So soft, so warm, the vibration of his purrs resounding through my hands and legs, calming my thoughts and filling me with comfort and contentment… strange…

Hermione shifted slightly, and set the chocolate between us. We both settled in, staring into the middle distance, in a very comfortable and content mutual silence. I thought back over the day, and the broom incident… the horror that struck me as I saw her begin to fall behind as the dragon chased her, the relief I felt as my binding charm locked firmly onto her, the terror my evasive maneuvering would unseat her anyway, and the sudden flare of rage when we landed and I found that oaf Gregor with his arm around her, as if _he'd_ done anything to prevent disaster beyond run for cover when he saw the dragon…

I felt very badly for her, looking so frail and windblown, sick and frightened, and The Oaf worried more about his precious _brooms_ than this shattered young woman. I looked down and shook my head, sneering at his stupidity. Then I strode up to her, touched her elbow, and led her toward the nearby stream. I stopped at a handy bilberry bush and picked a handful, then offered them to her. She looked up at me as though I was offering her burning coals; I rolled my eyes and said, "They're only bilberries, Hermione. Eat them, you'll feel better." She took them and I went to fetch her some water from the stream.

I added a small amount of Calming Draught to the water before I brought it back – she needed to relax. I handed it to her, then began looking for Resurrection Flower, which does grow in this area. I found quite a few in a small dip near the stream, and collected them – good, I was running low. When I headed back to Hermione, I found she was sleeping.

I sat down beside her and watched her sleep. She was very pale, and her brow was faintly knit – no doubt due to bad dreams from the dragon chase. The breeze softly ruffled her hair, which had escaped from its clip and was spread around her head. A strand flipped across her face, and I reached out to gently move it away. Her brow unknit, and her breathing deepened.

At that moment The Oaf bellowed that we needed to be getting back. I sighed, and gently touched Hermione on the shoulder. "You need to wake up, now," I said. Slowly she came out of her drowse, and looked around with a charmingly bewildered air, her eyes big and soft with sleep. Then they cleared, and I saw panic flash into them over the thought of another broom ride.

"Don't worry; I believe your broom is a total loss. You will ride with me, and I will keep you safe. I also have a Calming Draught if you'd like some."

She nodded, and I gave her the flask. "Just one sip, it's rather strong," I admonished. She handed the flask back, gathered her Gryffindor bravery about her like a cloak, and nodded once. "Let's go," she said.

We flew back, Hermione mounted before me, with my free arm clasped firmly about her supple waist, pulling her back against my chest. I had charmed my cloak to gather around us to block the wind and keep us warm, and underneath it her hands clutched my wrist and forearm, first with terror, then with exhilaration. I think she'll be able to fly again, as long as she rides with someone she trusts for a while. She settled back against me most delightfully, and I was hard-pressed to keep my mind on my flying. Toward the end of our trip it was a decided difficulty to do so – all I can say is thank Merlin for wizards' robes and billowing cloaks!

And now here we were, drowsily sharing a sofa and a bar of chocolate, thinking our thoughts and – could it be? – enjoying each other's silent company.

I looked over at her, and surprised a deep blush staining her cheeks and throat. What in the world… was she thinking of our homeward flight too? I know how I reacted, but is it possible…? Ridiculous thought, Severus, you're old enough to be her father. No doubt she was reliving the embarrassment of losing her control in front of The Oaf.

Fumbling around for something to say, all that sprang to mind was, "You look a bit pink…" God, you're smooth, Severus. Inwardly I cringed and clutched my head.

She cleared her throat and murmured something about too much wine. Right. Wine has taken the blame for so much through the ages.

Our silent companionship broken, I cast about for something to say. She took another piece of chocolate, and after a moment so did I. Morpheus, almost forgotten, seemed to add another decibel or two to his purr. My anxiety flowed away under the onslaught, and I relaxed.

"What do you intend to do when you get back? Will you return to the Ministry or do you have other plans?" I asked. I had no idea where that came from.

"I'm not sure," she mused. "I'd like to stay in contact with Siggy; he's a lovely child with a lot of potential."

My heart leaped in my chest. Odd. "I was hoping you would," I replied. "It will benefit him to have an adult outside of the School he can confide in. Not to mention he seems to genuinely like you."

Morpheus' purrs were lulling me deeper into a comfortable, warm, half-waking state. It would be wonderful if she could stay at Hogwarts… perhaps I should ask Albus if there was a post she could take. A witch of her ability shouldn't be wasted at the Ministry, shuffling papers and stamping forms… Perhaps it was time for me to take the Defence Against the Dark Arts duties, now the curse was lifted… She would be an admirable Potions instructor…

Suddenly I felt a gentle pressure on my shoulder. She had slowly drifted across the sofa, laid her head on my shoulder, and gone to sleep. It seemed I should wake her and bid her good night, but she was so warm, the room was so warm, the cat was so warm, the purring was so warm….

Some time later my eyes drifted open. My head was pillowed on Hermione's head, which was pillowed on my shoulder. Her hand was lying palm up on the empty chocolate wrapper, and mine was lying on top of hers. I knew I should move, but I couldn't. Morpheus was sleeping smugly on my lap, and I would swear the creature had a smile on his face. I began to frown at him, then felt Hermione stir. I jumped a bit when she moved, which awakened Morpheus. He peered up at me, smirked, and settled back down. If ever a cat ate a canary, this one had…

While I fixed the cat with one of my best glares, Hermione staggered to her feet, mumbling something about going to bed. Not having caught the first part, my eyes flew to hers, my mouth partly open. "Thank you for everything," she said, and waited for a moment as if she expected me to say something. Nothing – nothing at all – crossed my mind. I was completely blank.

"Good night, then," she said, and left the room. I looked down at the cat, who was once again purring happily and regarding me with a particularly self-satisfied gaze. There is much more to this cat than meets the eye.

I stood up, dumping him unceremoniously on the floor. He gave a _rowrl_ of displeasure. "It's more than you deserve, you match-making old flea hotel," I growled at him. He stood up, flicked his tail dismissively at me, and strolled off to join Siggy. I made my way to my own bed, where I lay awake for quite some time, trying to decide exactly what had happened. But before I could come to any conclusions, I had fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep.


End file.
